


Summer's End

by glim



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Post-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 02:57:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4547487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Suppose summer is really over now," Thursday murmurs, then turns when Morse just gives a noncommittal sound in reply.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer's End

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'change in weather.'

Thursday turns his coat collar up against the scatter of cold rain that begins to fall on the walk back to the car. When they'd left the station that morning, it hadn't been particularly warm, but it certainly hadn't been this chilly. Whatever thin sunlight Oxford had had at nine o'clock had faded to a dull, grey, damp afternoon. 

There's a grimace on Morse's face, the sort that means he's holding something back. He frowns and glances away from Thursday's curious look, then shrugs. 

"I think I prefer summer. Or, at least, a slightly less unexpected change from one season to the next." Morse sounds tired, and is starting to look a little peaky from the run of twelve hour work days they've had on the latest case. 

That's not really what's bothering him, though. You'd hardly notice if you weren't looking, and Thursday feels a pang of guilt for not having noticed earlier. It's there, though, in the way Morse favors one leg, how his steps are starting to drag a bit at the end of a day spent in the sudden damp and chill. 

He'll have that limp with him for the rest of his days, especially when the weather turns damp and cold, Thursday thinks, and cups Morse's elbow in his palm. Morse resists, the grimace back on his face, then seems to melt into the touch after a moment's hesitation. He almost looks relieved, as if the touch absolves him from an admission of weakness, frees him from having to tell Thursday what he already knows. 

Thursday gives a brief nod and leads Morse in the direction of the car. "Well, lunch will warm you up; we'll eat in the pub and mull what we learned this morning. Not sure how much more time in the damp and chill I can take, anyway." 

Relief and tacit gratitude flicker over Morse's features again and Thursday keeps his hand at Morse's elbow for the rest of the walk.


End file.
